A Man of Many Parts

It is September 30, 1983. The Class of 1935 Seminar is about to take place in Cook Auditorium at the Tuck School. The speaker is Robert Reich '68, Rhodes scholar, best-selling author, star teacher at the Kennedy School of Government, and popular lecturer at Harvard Law School.

Anticipation runs high in the lecture hall. Finally a young man walks out dressed in a tweed jacket with leather buttons, striped tie, grey flannels, crepe-soled moccasins. Handsome, he has a chiselled profile with a high forehead, wavy brown hair, deepset light green eyes, a moustache and beard. He is four feet, eleven inches tall. He walks to the podium but he can not see over it. A moment of tension. The audience exudes silent sympathy. What is to be done?

Bob Reich reaches down behind the podium and pulls up a stool. He climbs on the stool, peers out at the crowd and, eyes dancing, says: "Before I started worrying about the future of the American economy, I was six feet two." There is an explosion of laughter; he has the audience in the palm of his hand.

He is among friends anyway. His father, Edwin Reich, is a member of the Class of 1935 and Bob has attended their reunions since he was a little boy. His mother, Mildred Reich, a professional painter, is also present. Bob's sense of connectedness to Dartmouth is strong. "I grew up with Dartmouth songs and stories ringing in my ears. My father's classmates were mythic heroes of those tales. When it was time for college, my father tried his best not to influence my decision and I tried to act as though I had a choice.

"Even after such a build up, when I came to Dartmouth I was stunned by the clear, crisp beauty of the place. The freshman trip was overwhelming to me. I had never hiked in the mountains before. I was dreadfully homesick but I remember the camaraderie around the crackling fire at Moosilauke. In strode these three huge men, John Dickey, Thad Seymour, A 1 Dickerson, in flannel shirts, L.L. Bean jackets, and hiking boots. Their height totalled nineteen feet. I was being inducted into a fraternity of giants. I was thrilled and panicked." Bob Reich returned from that "overwhelming" trip the newly-elected president of the freshman class.

"I had brilliant professors at Dartmouth - Arthur Wilson and his course on the Enlightenment, Charlie Wood on medieval Europe, Alan Gaylord's seminar on Henry Adams, Harry Bond's seminar when we dissected and lived Faulkner and Hemingway. Playwriting with John Finch, art history with John Wilmerding, writing with Peter Saccio how could I have been so lucky? These men were masters of the art of teaching and I had others equally splendid."

One college memory fills Bob with anguish. Freshman year he was chosen to be one of nine justices on the Undergraduate Council Judiciary Committee. Most UGCJC cases dealt with parietals. In the spring of 1965 a student was accused by a dean at Smith College of violating the bluebook rule that Dartmouth men were to "avoid lewdness and fornication." The student admitted the fornication but pointed out the violation had occurred during spring break in the Caribbean. Was he still under Dartmouth constraints?

"We deliberated all night," Bob recalls, "and then voted yes. We recommended he should be kicked out, and he was, but we never discussed the consequences. He left, was drafted, and went to Vietnam. Thank God he was not killed. This was one of the formative experiences of my life. For the first time I internalized the difference between legality and justice."

The law looms even larger on Bob's horizon than it does for most lawyers. He drew up a detailed proposal for the establishment of a Dartmouth law school. He married a lawyer, Clare Dalton, Oxford '71, J.D. Harvard '73, who teaches contracts and legal history at Harvard Law School. And their son, Adam, 4, says he's going to be a lawyer. Not that Reich is uncritical. He would not agree with Mr. Bumble that "The law is an ass," but when it falls short he is heard from. "A lot of my writing takes swipes at lawyers," he says. "I feel I have unique qualifications to do that."

Bob Reich possesses three natural assets any lawyer would covet - a rich voice that can resonate to the rafters; a gift for expressing himself in words (some find him "distressingly articulate"); and a flair for drama. A ham at heart, Bob has been theater struck since he was a child. In acting, as elsewhere, he has turned shortness into an asset. Because he was little he was cast as baby Jesus in elementary school and as Puck at Oxford. People still talk about the latter, a memorable performance. He directed and played in TheFantastiks and scored a hit as a comic in a Winter Carnival production of Once Upon A Mattress. When he was working in Washington he wrote and directed "The Raucous Caucus" which had a 13-week run at a dinner theater.

Bob was 13 years old when his doctor told him he would never grow to full height. Crushed, he came home and sat alone in the dark living room for hours. He stayed there so long his parents became alarmed. When at last he came out he said, "I've made up my mind. I can live with that. I am not going to give in to it."

He has not given into it. A born leader, Bob was president of student government, as well as a National Merit Scholar, at John Jay High School in Katonah, N.Y. The principal wrote the committee considering Bob for a Rhodes scholarship: "This young man can do anything he puts his mind to. Although he's only four feet, eleven, if he decided he wanted to play center on the Knicks basketball team, I am convinced he could do it."

A Jew with strong convictions, Bob's idealism is rooted in a deep religious faith. He knows what social injustice is. In 1947 a delegation visited his father at their home in South Salem, N.Y. and asked him to move elsewhere because the town did not want any Jewish families. The Reichs ignored the request.

Bob's record at Dartmouth reflects a wide breadth of interests: A.B.C. tutor, WDCR director, chairman of Palaeopitus, president of the Class of 1968 freshman, sophomore, and junior year, president of the Undergraduate Council senior year, winner of the oratorical prize, a Frost playwrighting prize, and the award for outstanding undergraduate. Elected to Phi Beta Kappa, he graduated summa cum laude and delivered a Class Day speech on Vietnam that was a rouser. He fulfilled the Rhodes requirement for playing "manly outdoor sport" as cox of the freshman crew and sometime wrestler at the intramural level. Reich readily admits that the latter arena was not the best place to show his talents. As he put it, "No one was awed by my athletic prowess."

In 1968, Time, under the heading "The Tiniest 8.M.0.C.," wrote that a highpoint in Bob Reich's breakneck college career was starting one of the nation's first "free universities." The Dartmouth Experimental College, which survives today as the Mini-versity at Collis, put out a catalogue offering 40 not-for-credit courses ranging from Marxism to How to Make Money in the Stock Market. "We creeping weenies gave the partying Big Greeners something to think about," Reich recalls with a grin.

The future appears unlimited for this human dynamo. He returned to speak at Dartmouth trailing clouds of glory. Winner of both the Rhodes and Marshall Scholarship; P.P.E., Oxford '70, J.D., Yale Law School '73; law clerk to Federal Judge Coffin of the First Circuit Court; Assistant Solicitor General of the U.S.; Director of Policy Planning for the Federal Trade Commission; teacher of political economy and management at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government; lecturer in law, politics and industrial structure, Harvard Law School; contributing editor of The New Republic; consultant to the Carter and Reagan administrations; regular columnist for The Japan Economic Journal; author of three books - Minding America's Business; The Next American Frontier; NewDeals: The Chrysler Revival and the American System; author of articles in ForeignAffairs, Harvard Business Review, TheNew York Times Magazine, The Atlantic, and numerous op ed pieces in The NewYork Times, The Los Angeles Times, TheWashington Post, The Boston Globe; "the Democratic Party's new guru" [News week]; amateur musician, actor, painter - Bob Reich lends new lustre to the term Renaissance man.

Not surprisingly, he is working on three new books, one of which is titled The Anxious Liberal's Guide to the Future. The press calls him an Atari democrat because of his high-tech expertise. A dedicated activist, he is on the board of directors of Common Cause and of Gary Hart's think tank, and will chair meetings of the Democratic National Committee at Harvard. He says the Democratic party must convince young voters who have no vision of a strong, effective government because of Vietnam, Watergate, Carter, Reagan - that government can and must be a catalyst to solve problems. "At its bedrock," says Reich, "this country has an enormous capacity for charity and equity, but a lot of change is required before social justice can be achieved."

When the Democrats return to White House, it is possible that Bob Reich might be offered a cabinet post, but it is not probable he would abandon his true love, teaching. His enthusiasm for teaching is contagious. His students throw themselves wholeheartedly into the role-playing he assigns. One will be president of a corporation while two others hotly debate opposing policies from which the president must choose. A student said recently, "Professor Reich's reading load is tough, but his students respond as if he were offering them candy."

The Reiches - Clare, Adam, Sam, and Bob - live in a Victorian house in Cambridge. It is a child-centered home with Bob's huge expressionist paintings on exposed brick walls with polished wood floors, an upright piano, and piles of milk cartons the boys use as building blocks. We were chatting over coffee when Clare, a tall, graceful brunette, came in with 18-month old Sam on her hip and said in her mellifluous English voice, "Keep an eye on Adam. He's outside."

Bob nods. "Clare and I share all privileges and responsibilities of parenting. Both our sons are big for their age, an excellent refutation of genetics." He speaks fluently, never a hem or a hesitation. Asked about his weaknesses, he says, "I eat too much ice cream and get impatient when the world doesn't respond as I think it should. I have to remind myself to stop trying to instigate and incite, but to accept and work with instead. I'm growing up gradually."

"Strengths? Well, I'm good at motivating people. I think I'm a terrific teacher. I love to write and believe I do that well. I hope I'm insightful. I want to put together pieces of reality in patterns people haven't seen or understood before."

When we walk out on the porch, Adam calls, "I'm setting up headquarters, Dad. We have to check to see if there are any bad guys."

He replies, "I'll be there in a minute to help you fight the bad guys."

On stage he's played everything from Jesusto Puck. And off stage, well, let's just saythere's even more on the horizon.

Far all the other hats he wears, one of the most important for Reich is that of father. Herehe shares a playful moment with his four-year-old son Adam, who says he wants to be alawyer like his mom and dad.

Bob Reich possesses threenatural assets any lawyerwould covet - a richvoice that can resonate tothe rafters; a gift forexpressing himself inwords; and a flair fordrama.

Asked about hisweaknesses, he says, "Ieat too much ice creamand get impatient whenthe world doesn't respondas I think it should ...I'm growing upgradually

Nardi Reeder Campion is a free-lance writerliving in Hanover.